


Like Me, Like You

by starshipment



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, POV Romelle (Voltron), she is a sad muffin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 12:13:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starshipment/pseuds/starshipment
Summary: Romelle wants Acxa to train her. (But she doesn't know that Acxa wants to kiss her.)





	Like Me, Like You

**Author's Note:**

> apparently literally no one ships this so if you found this fic let me hug you (@god i just want my precious daughters to interact next season bc they'd be good together)
> 
> p.s. there's a slight mention of racism(?) towards like, aliens

Earth is like an uglier version of Lotor’s first colony.

Fine, it’s not fair to think that, what with Earth being under construction in the aftermath of a Galra attack and invasion and all. And yet she can’t really understand why everything is just gray and brown and stone. She had had to look very carefully to find the patch of green she’s currently lying on, and even then there is no wind to make her hair tickle her face and the sun shines unforgivingly. There’s sweat on her brow, as she had to hike all the way up to this hill that lies further away from the broken city. She is close enough to hear the noise, all the life down there, the voice of the eclectic resistance that Earth has welcomed. She should be hopeful, but she just feels tired.

Sometimes the sky will be almost the exact same as it was home. Gentle blue, with wind-shaped clouds. It’s not the case now as the sky is cloudless, so she closes her eyes and folds her arms behind her head and imagines Bandor next to her, going on and on about something he was working on. Romelle would ask tons of stupid questions and he would answer them all, take the time to explain the simplest things to her and laugh at her lack of understanding only sometimes.

But Bandor isn’t here and the grass is too dry to feel nice.

_It’s all a lie._ Bandor’s last words, Romelle’s first thought every morning. He had looked so old, in her arms, sucked dry and destroyed, like he’d already died as he drew his last breaths to tell Romelle she had been right all along. And being right is what has haunted her since, the guilt that it brings. Why didn’t she fight harder for him, even when she suspected something?

She remembers days just staring at Lotor’s statue, unmoving, seething in anger and sorrow and pain at the reflection of a man that took away her parents, her friends, her most precious baby brother.

_I sacrificed a few to preserve millions_ , she had listened Lotor explain it away to Allura. Sacrificed a few. Like her family means nothing.

It’s hard. It’s _so hard._

She doesn’t know how long she’s been crying, _sobbing_ , before she hears a voice.

“Hey, you alright?”

It’s Acxa. Galra. One of Lotor’s generals.

But also Romelle’s friend. (The only one who has had the time to come looking for her, actually. This is not the first time it’s Acxa who finds her.)

Romelle can’t seem to stop crying; the more she tries to stop the tears the more choked up she gets.

“H-how did you find me?” she gasps, hiccups, sobs.

“Because I know you”, says Acxa, and sits down beside her. Romelle hides her face in her palms, but Acxa’s hands grab at her wrists, pulling them down from her face. Romelle fights back only to grip Acxa’s fingers in hers, instead.

“It hurts”, Romelle says.

“It’s okay”, Acxa says.

Then they stay there for a while, Acxa sitting and Romelle laying down, holding hands, and Romelle waits for the world to lighten up again, waits for the heavy sorrow to pass. It never does. Instead, it’s Romelle who has to pull herself together in the end, not the universe. Not fate. It’s her who has to rebuild.

She doesn’t know how much time passes, because she doesn’t understand how the Earth Sun works, can’t figure out if now is evening or morning. She does know, however, that Acxa is still sitting beside her, letting Romelle have a death grip on her fingers.

When she thinks she can speak without her voice cracking she lets go of Acxa and opts for a more conversational approach to the ‘you just saw me break down and I’m embarrassed about it’, asking:

“ _So_ , how is the combat training going?”

“People of Earth are still weak, but they’re getting better.”

Okay, then. Acxa teaches with Krolia, and she’s always complaining about Earthlings and their predictable fighting strategies, about the men who don’t focus, who call her an exotic beauty and get handsy during the lessons. Romelle personally wants to punch every single one of those men, even if she gets the same treatment herself and doesn’t feel the need for violence. When she started wearing her Altean clothes again after the rest of the coalition arrived on Earth, forgoing her Garrison uniform, the comments about her eyes, her markings, her accent just increased. Yet she kept wearing them, just like Acxa kept wearing her own clothes, and dealing with it all didn’t feel as terrible together. Acxa made her feel safe. Makes her feels safe. Which is why…

“Would you train me?” She suddenly feels very shy, especially when Axca turns to her with her intensive eyes. She knows she’s over-exited with a tendency to botch up a lot, and that someone as disciplined as Acxa might not want to teach someone like her. It still doesn’t explain why her heart is hammering in her chest, waiting for Acxa to react.

And then Acxa smiles, and Romelle feels herself automatically respond in kind.

“Yeah, I would.” It’s very soft, and the tone makes Romelle’s heartbeat even wilder. She might crawl out of her skin soon, so she bounces up from the ground in one quick motion and looks down at Acxa.

“Okay”, she says a little too loud. “Let’s start!”

“W-what, now?” Acxa stammers. Romelle has never heard her stammer before. It makes her proud of herself, for causing it.

“Yes, _now_! Let’s not wait for the grass to grow”, Romelle grins widely, and makes that expression that makes her eyes seem like they’re sparkling (her mother told her this).

Acxa stares with her mouth open.

“Sure”, she says, unsurely. She takes the hand Romelle is offering her and pulls herself up. After a beat her eyes morph from confused to focused, her gaze sweeping up and down Romelle’s body, and Romelle nearly physically _feels_ it inspecting her. Then Acxa takes a step forward, pressing against her. Romelle nearly gasps.

“First rule” – Acxa looks down and licks her lips (and Romelle’s eyes follow the movement in a probably very painfully obvious way) – “don’t let the enemy get close to you.”

Romelle squints. Shouldn’t they be learning some cool flips or something? Acxa takes a step forward, forcing Romelle to take a step back. “Push me away”, she says, taking another step.

Their bodies are flush against each other, Romelle is very aware of that, and their faces are so close Romelle can feel Acxa’s breath. She can also see the way Acxa’s eyelashes curl. The Galra have nice eyelashes, she has noticed, dark and thick. Attractive for sure, and their eyes – dark too, but mysterious. All the Galra she knows have them: Acxa, Keith and especially Krolia (the one who is actually full-Galra), yet she finds that Acxa has the most intriguing eyes out of all of them. There’s a light in them that seems to twinkle in the most mundane moments, like when Romelle talks about Altean farm animals or when she offers to comb Acxa’s hair (it’s always messy). Just last night the twinkle had appeared when Romelle had brought her that strange Earth dish (patotoes, was it?) and kept her company as she cleaned her strange Galran weapon.

Yes, Romelle, she has pretty eyes. Now _focus._

Acxa’s pupils are very big. Romelle swallows hard, then pushes Acxa away by the shoulders.

Acxa comes bouncing back.

“Push me again”, she says, and Romelle does. Then she’s back again, crowding Romelle’s personal space. “Don’t let me near.”

_But I want you near!_ Romelle thinks before shoving her again, this time with more force. And then there’s that twinkle again, accompanied by a wicked smile, and Romelle can only think _too hot!_ before Acxa tries to step forward again.

But now Romelle keeps a hand out and her feet moving to prevent Acxa from coming in.

“Good”, Acxa says as they move together, back and forth as Romelle pushes Acxa back with one hand and Acxa moves against it. “You’re getting it.”

“Okay, what next?” Romelle asks, a little out of breath. They haven’t even moved that much.

“Next? Next you would call for me.”

“What?”

Acxa smiles, her eyes suddenly determined. “Next, you would call for me and I would protect you.”

Romelle frowns. There are so many things she doesn’t understand about this situation, her head empty. She’s missing something, surely. “You’re not _always_ around.”

“Romelle”, Acxa sighs. “I haven’t let you out of my sight in weeks.” Her voice is husky, clouded, and her eyes are ablaze. “And I don’t intend to. Ever.”

And suddenly Romelle doesn’t know what to say, what to do, she doesn’t know what this means.

“Why?” is what she asks, quietly. How could Acxa have the time for her when she’s just an annoying Altean girl, overactive enough to make _Lance_ complain, a scared thing that will be wary of just about anything. How coud Acxa, of all people, stable and _brave,_ bother with her?

“Because”, Acxa says, taking a step forward. This time Romelle lets her, anticipating. Acxa seems to be searching for something in her eyes, her confidence visibly draining tick by tick. When she finally speaks, it sounds defeated: “You really don’t know?”

And maybe Romelle might have a tiny inkling, something she had thought she made up to suit her own ideas about their relationship. Something she thought was there because she desperately wanted it to be.

Something that now, apparently, actually exists. Romelle swallows.

“I’ll take a guess”, she forces out, rushed, and leans forward.

Despite the short distance, Acxa meets her halfway.

It’s shy at first, eyes fluttering open after each soft press of the lips. Romelle meets Acxa’s eyes and _smiles_ , and then Acxa lets out a groan and grabs her face with both hands.

And then they’re really kissing, Acxa’s hands cupping Romelle’s jaw, then the back of her neck, and head, and Romelle slips an arm over Acxa’s shoulder and pulls her closer by the waist. Acxa presses near like Romelle is the only thing holding her together, and Romelle feels herself melting.

_Is this really happening?_ is what echoes around in her mind. Is this why Acxa nearly punched Lance for calling Romelle annoying? Does Acxa _fancy_ her? The small whine that escapes Acxa’s lips when Romelle pulls away tells her that, yes, Acxa probably does.

Excited. Romelle feels excited.

 “It was a good guess”, Acxa says. Her arms are now cupping Romelle’s cheeks, fingers ghosting over her cheekbones, and she stares. Searches. Romelle grips her biceps tightly.

The thing about Acxa, Romelle realizes, is that she also ended up losing everyone because of Lotor. Whilst Romelle believed in Lotor the god, Acxa believed in Lotor the friend, and Acxa followed him and trusted him only to realize she was wrong in doing so. Saw Lotor for what he was.

And like Romelle, she lost her family.

So Romelle holds on to Acxa as tightly as Acxa holds on to her, and smiles.

“What?” Acxa asks, the corners of her lips pulling up, too.

“I will always be here to protect you right back.”

“Shut up, you pastel princess.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> wow thanks for reading this
> 
> if you like leave a comment and scream about this ship to me on [tumblr](%E2%80%9Dstarshipment.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)


End file.
